There was a pop.
Marcus fell into a lake of cold, dark water.
The lake was deep and the lucky angle of impact meant he only broke three ribs but not his spine.
In an instant, freezing water surrounded him, flowing from his throat into his lungs.
He coughed breathlessly, the cold air of the ground waking him up from the disorientation he felt from the fall.
Marcus struggled in vain, but now his limbs were stiff and he had no buoyancy.
When he opened his mouth, cold water rushed in. He could only struggle against the heavy water-absorbing coat on his body, but his body was too injured and his soul was too injured.
The Inquisitor sank deeper and deeper, bubbles rising from his mouth.
Suddenly, an arm plunged into the water, and a hand with steel claws grabbed his shoulder.
The next second, he was dragged out of the water.
Marcus was dragged to a river bank filled with gravel and rubble. He gasped for air, rolled over, and spat out the water in his lungs - the water was so cold that his throat burned.
He vomited until there was no more fluid in his stomach and his mouth tasted like blood and bile.
He even felt the sphincter in his trachea twitching as he returned to his normal breathing pattern.
Cold air has never tasted so comforting.
Steam was coming out of him and it was a miracle he was still alive.
There are so many miracles witnessed today.
Marcus looked up and found that he had fallen from a height of more than 100 meters.
Dust filled the air, debris rolled into the cave like jagged cracks in the ceiling like raindrops, and steel mesh from collapsed buildings ripped a hole in the rock like rough seams, high-strength wires and data The cables sparkled and swayed like jungle creepers.
The darkness made it difficult to judge the size of the cave, but it was not large, perhaps a hundred meters at its widest point.
The lake level is rising as more debris falls into the lake.
His follower and savior, the Death Cult assassin Malthus, was squatting by the lake.
Miraculously, he was not injured, and the cold water lapped at his feet.
Marcus always felt something strange about the darkness that possessed this assassin. It looked like his legs had many joints.
Suddenly, the assassin turned around his pale skull mask and said in a low voice:
"you are still alive."
It seemed like he was surprised.
"The same to you."
"Ha, I forgot to tell you that I have undergone some special transformations that have allowed me to save my life at critical moments."
"That's great. Can you tell me the details?"
The assassin cocked his head to the side as if the answer was self-evident, but gave Marcus no answer.
Then he looked at the cracked roof of the cave.
"It's not easy to get up there."
Marcus also stood up, his limbs barely regaining mobility.
"The bombing should be over. We need to call someone to rescue us."
"Call who?"
"It will be all right."
"Who's going?"
Marcus reluctantly took out the communicator that had broken into two pieces.
"Go ahead, I guess I don't have the ability."
"Then you have to wait a while."
After saying that, the assassin threw out a hook lock in his hand, hung it on a steel bar above, and then jumped up with force.
Suddenly, Marcus was the only one left in the dark cave.
He found a rock to sit on and then tended to his wounds.
Suddenly, his body froze.
The laughter returned.
Whispers came from all directions, promising him the glory that awaited him when he reached his divine destination.
Marcus realized that his excessive use of psychic powers had caused certain consequences.
He quickly stood up and drew the sword and pistol from his waist.
Marcus calmed down, but when he turned around, he saw a pale humanoid climbing up the rubble and approaching him.
It is naked and gender cannot be seen.
Eyelidless, eyes staring, mouth open, its flesh oozed out of its body like molten wax, like a candle burning upside down.
It seemed to be the same corrupted thing as the mutants, but in a more complete state of evolution, like something roughly carved from living clay.
When Marcus saw it, it pounced, and the Inquisitor backed away hastily.
"Damn it!"
He pulled the trigger, but the bullet had the same effect on the thing as on the mud—no use.
Then he wanted to gather his spiritual energy to fight off the demon, but when he exerted a little force, the back of his head immediately buzzed as if he had received a heavy hammer.
The judge staggered and almost fell, and dark blood dripped from his nose.
The demon stood up.
It was at least four times as tall as an average human, with a slender body wrapped in a pillar of melting, pulsating flesh.
The creature lashed its whip-like limbs and spread a grease-like mass on the floor. Eyeballs, lips, and breasts flowed all over its body and gathered like bubbles, staring down at the helpless Inquisitor. .
Soon, a pile of flesh on the creature was somehow melted by the evil magic of the subspace and flowed to the ground. It gradually swelled, squirmed into a humanoid shape, and then became entangled together like men and women in a carnival.
Marcus hated the blasphemous creature in front of him, but at the same time, he increasingly felt that some part of him liked this blasphemy, which made him choke and feel sick.
He wanted to swing his sword, but his body couldn't move. He could only watch himself, slowly being hypnotized by the creature.
The demon's face spun, forming a vortex in the center, a small hole that seemed to open a warp passage in the fabric of reality.
Through this small hole, Marcus can hear some sounds that can drive him crazy, corrode both the body and the mind, and determine the direction of his fate.
The demon stretched out a welcoming arm toward him, its flesh coiling into tentacles.
Marcus screamed, watching himself reach out to greet him uncontrollably.
"Evil spirits must be punished!"
Suddenly, a bolt grazes the creature's scalp, but immediately two more bolts pierce its chest.
Marcus regained control of his body, turned around and distanced himself from the demon, and vaguely saw the person who saved him emerging from the ruins not far away.
The figure in silver-gray power armor emerged from the darkness like an angel. This was a huge giant, and every step made the cave tremble.
As the giant stepped out of the darkness, Marcus saw a stoic face decorated with battle scars, and its raised arms occasionally released bursts of flickering flames.
Marcus immediately fell to the ground. The demon's body began to explode everywhere, and the ground around him was covered with steaming minced meat.
The warrior's scarred face was tense with rage, and the generator on his throat plate amplified his voice into a terrifying roar.
"The hole destroys the monsters!!"
Along with his roar, there was also the roar of a chain saw and halberd.
The demon flapped its limbs feebly, trying to wrap around the giant, but was torn apart mercilessly. The halberd struck from its head, splitting it into two instantly.
In a piercing howl, the demon disappeared into ashes, and the minced meat on the ground also turned into ashes.
Marcus had been lying behind the stone, and when he realized there was a shadow covering him, he finally raised his head.
The giant also reached out to him at the right time.
"Hello, Inquisitor."
"Fellow, uh——"
Marcus forced a smile on his dirty face, then rolled his eyelids and fainted.
